Page 89 of Joey

“He got away with it,” I say. “We got away with it. I ran away with him. I don’t even know if anyone came looking for me. Doubtful. But maybe. His daughter died in some backwater town in Mexico and Miklos—that’s my dad’s name—Miklos paid the village doctor off. They buried her in a small cemetery and no death certificate was ever issued.” I shrug. “So… I just took her passport and we went home. It had my picture on it,” I add. “So… I dunno. The whole thing was just… well planned. So he never got caught. But he lived with the guilt the whole time.”

All three of them are silent.

“But then Miklos died a couple months ago and he just… erased me.”

“What?” Joey says.

“He took my life away before he died. He wanted me to go home for a long time and I said no.” I look at Joey. “He was a conman. A very good conman. And when he got back—when we got back to Europe, after Esmilia died—everyone knew I wasn’t her. Of course. But Miklos just said, ‘She is new Esmilia,’ and no one cared. They called me Esmilia. I learned to speak Hungarian and a bunch of other languages too. I lied to everyone. Even the ones who knew I was lying. It didn’t matter. I made things up. The way we’re making things up. And I worked with him. I was his partner. And he was my father. And…” I shrug. “I was this new girl with a new life and … I liked it. But when Miklos died the lie died with him.”

There is a long stretch of silence.

Finally, Joey says, “So that’s how you ended up here?”

I sigh and nod. “I had some money. He left me money, and a plane ticket, and a plan. But…” I stop to take a deep breath. “I was suddenly Brooke again. I had a passport and when I came back and I went through customs, I expected to get flagged. For being kidnapped, you know? Because… because people tend to miss their children when they are kidnapped, right? But I didn’t. I didn’t get flagged. And I had this whole speech prepared. What I would tell people, what I had been doing, who I was with, why I never called the police… this whole speech that never got used because even from the grave, Miklos took care of me. He got me past all of it. All I had to do was follow directions. I was his last job. Giving me my life back was his very last con.”

I suck in a deep breath of air. Hold it for a while. Then let it out slowly. “But… it’s not that easy. When you become someone new and then you get used to it, you become that person. I was Esmilia. I really, really was, you guys. So being Brooke again…” I stop and swallow down the feelings. “I’m just not sure who she is.” Then I sigh, long and loud. “That’s all, I guess. I just don’t know who I am.”

There is a long stretch of silence. I’m sure they’re all trying to picture this new version of me and I’m trying to make her go away.

I’m trying my best to forget Esmilia, but it’s just not that simple.

“How many years?” Huck finally asks. “How many years were you with him?”

“Thirteen.”

“And your mother?” Wald says.

“Never even reported me missing. Miklos knew this. He kept track of her, maybe? Or paid her off? That’s possible too. But Brooke Alder was alive and well when I returned. Because I was her and no one took my place the way I took Esmilia’s.”

“Wow,” Huck says. “Just… wow.”

“That’s a big secret to hand us,” Joey says.

I nod. “I know. And you don’t have to give me one back. I just…” I look at Wald again. “Sometimes you need a change and you don’t care what that change is. So I don’t care how this turns out. I just need a change.”

Joey is about to open his mouth and reply when the doorbell rings.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - JOEY

We all look at the arched doorway that leads to the front foyer.

“Who the fuck is that?” Huck says.

“Stay here,” I say, pulling my pants up as I get to my feet. I zip them up but my belt is unbuckled and I’m shirtless as I approach the front door and pull it open.

“Can I help you?” I ask the man standing in my fucking doorway wearing a suit.

He looks at me. My bare chest. My unbuckled belt. And when I look over my shoulder, Brooke, Huck, and Wald are all peeking around the corner of the sunroom archway despite my order to stay put.

“I’m… sorry,” the man says. “I’m Don Parker. Head of Kane security.”

Fuck.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Parker?”

“You’re Joey, right?”

“That’s me,” I say.